By Jill Roberts / January 9, 2020
I received a message this week from an Instagram follower, who enjoys hiking alone, but admits it can feel a little “creepy.” She was looking for recommendations on what to bring on a solo hike that could put her more at ease. I can relate to her reference to creepy, since it took me some time to become more comfortable with being in the woods alone.
I started hiking solo several years ago as a matter of convenience—it’s easier to make time to hike when you’re not coordinating with other people. However, I’ve come to crave the solo experience for the connection I feel to nature, that for me, only comes from exploring alone. Still, there are moments when I’ll hear a noise or feel a sensation that puts me on high alert, and makes my heart race; But I’m better at quickly acknowledging and denouncing the fear, and moving on.
Solo hiking isn’t for everyone, but if you think you’re ready for the adventure, or already hike alone, but are curious how a fellow hiker manages the fear, below are some of the precautions I take. However, I wouldn’t recommend anyone entering the woods alone without prior group hiking or other outdoor exposure, AND at least a basic knowledge of wilderness survival techniques.
I come prepared. I don’t necessarily bring anything different than I would if I was hiking with a companion or in a group. However, since I can’t rely on anyone else to be equipped with something I might need, I’m more attentive to being prepared with essentials in the event I get lost or injured. No matter how short or familiar the trail is, the daypack I carry is stocked at minimum with a map and compass, a headlamp, sun/bug protection, a small first aid kit, a Leatherman multi-tool, waterproof matches, extra snacks, extra warm clothing, and plenty of water, including a purification straw.
I started solo hikes on a short familiar trail near my home. The short and simple trail system got me comfortable being in the woods alone without the added worry of getting lost. I soon became familiar to the normal sounds of nature, so I wasn’t constantly becoming spooked from the sound of scurrying woodland critters or falling acorns. The woods are a quiet place, but in the warmer months especially, there’s a plethora of activity both on the ground and from the tree canopy. These sounds can create unnerving disturbances until you become acquainted to nature’s orchestra.
When I first began to solo hike, I carried the SPOT satellite communication device (findmespot.com). For an annual fee, the service kept me connected to family and emergency services in the case I had gotten lost or injured. In a push of a single button, an alert could be sent to notify someone that I was in danger. Thankfully, I never had a reason to use it, but it provided a sense of protection, which was a comfort while I was still adapting to being alone in the woods. I don’t use the service anymore, mostly because the trails I predominately hike have cell service, and I typically explore new trails with a companion.
I let someone I trust know where I’m hiking, and when I expect to be off the trail. I’m not always good at remembering to do this. In fact, I’ve been caught a few times arriving at trailheads, only to find I have no cell service, and in my haste to leave the house, I hadn’t told anyone of my intention or whereabouts. When I plan better, someone will know where I am, and what time I’m expected to check in when I pop off the trail. It’s probably the most important precaution I can take, and I should be more consistent about it.
I prefer trails that are more desolate over those that are more commonly hiked. Aside from the tranquility of hiking on a desolate trail, my rational is, if a person is going to sit in lurch to take someone by surprise, it would seem to reason they’re going to wait where there’s more opportunity to spot a candidate. Most people might reason that having more foot traffic would serve as guarded protection, but if you’re rendered unconscious, or can’t speak, then it doesn’t matter how many people are in the vicinity. I’m sure others might feel differently about this, but it comes down to personal preference, so hike where you feel safest.
I stay on clearly marked trails with mindfulness to the surroundings. I tend to be most concerned with disturbing wildlife, and having to fend off an animal who’s home, or personal space, I may have disturbed. I reduce the risk by staying on marked trails, and being aware to the type of animals I could encounter, and how I might best retreat. I pay attention to signs posted at trailheads that may alert to recent sightings and potential dangers. It may seem obvious to most seasoned hikers, but I should add that I never where headphones or listen to music while I’m hiking.
I don’t create a habit of where and when I hike. I’m very fortunate to live in an area that offers a wide selection of trail systems within a close radius of my home. For this reason, I can mix up the trails, and keep the time and day random so as not to develop a routine that others may notice as well. Plus, maintaining diversity allows me to appreciate each trail for its unique terrain and vibe.
I don’t take fear and worry with me on a hike. To live a life in fear, is not to live. There’s no other experience that replicates the oneness with nature than exploring alone in the vast outdoors. Solo hiking, with camera in hand, has become one of my favorite past times. When I come prepared and take precautions, I experience a joy that I wouldn’t have known had I had stayed away in fear.